


A Study In Miniature

by lockedawayinpermanentslumber (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Awesome Sally Donovan, Crack, Creepy Moriarty, Cute, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, Feels, Fluff, John is a Saint, Kid Sherlock, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft To The Rescue, Mycroft Worries, Other, Possessive Moriarty, Protective John, Protective Lestrade, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock-centric, de aged sherlock, fah la la la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lockedawayinpermanentslumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is de-aged and the crew have to deal with a totally adorable but demanding toddler. moriarty kidnaps Sherlock, Mycroft can't deal without Sherlock and Sally slaps Anderson. Adorable!Sherlock, Protective!Mycroft. Total fluffy crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

 

Come on John!” yelled Sherlock as he ran down the sterilized white corridor, gesturing for John to hurry up.

 

 

"He will get away if we don't catch him quickly!” he shouted.

 

 

John sighed as he raced down hall. They were trying to arrest an insane scientist who had been experimenting with illegal chemicals (not that Sherlock didn't do that-but he had Mycroft on his side).They both burst through some double doors in time to see the scientist pull out a strange multi-coloured gun and pointed it at Sherlock.

 

 

"SHERLOCK”, John roared as the pink sparkly jet that had been emitted from the gun hit him square in the chest, blasting him across the room. Sherlock tumbled into a cabinet and was quickly enveloped in a cloud of glittering pale blue smoke. John rushed to his friend’s side, ignoring the scientist who was cackling as he fled the room.

 

John waved away the smoke-which smelled of unicorn shaped marshmallows- and what a sight awaited him.

 

It was Sherlock. But it wasn't Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't this small or young or...cute? He stepped forward and took a good look at the curled up toddler, who seemed to be asleep.

 

"Sherlock?", he queried. "Are you awake?".

The tiny Sherlock sat up and rubbed his eyes in the most adorable fashion John had ever seen. He was dressed in a cotton white t-shirt with a kawaii bee motif, jeans and some pale blue fluffy socks. His hair was the colour of Bourneville chocolate, and was curly and looked very soft. His eyes were big and greeny blue, and his skin was milky and nearly translucent.

 

"Who are you?", asked a bewildered Sherlock, a slight lisp only serving to make him more delightful.

 

 

"Oh shi...ships!" John quickly amended, realizing he really couldn't swear in front of a three-year-old. "I am John", he said to the toddler, squatting down as he talked.

 

“Where is Crofty?" asked the toddler looking up at John. Crofty? Thought John, who the hell is Crofty? Then it hit him. Mycroft!

 

"Um, do you mean Mycroft? he asked.

 

"NO!" said the child, pouting,"Crofty!"

 

"Ok", he said patiently, “Mycroft is not here but I will phone him."

 


	2. Chapter Two

Just at that moment Lestade burst in shouting,

"He got away!"

"Yes, because we have a slight problem...", said John, biting his lip.

"What?" asked Lestrade an eyebrow raised.

"Uhhh...wellll...you seeee" fumbled John, finally just deciding to step aside and reveal the tiny Sherlock; who was currently sucking his thumb.

"Is that...is that who I think it is?" asked Greg looking horrified and apprehensive in equal measures.

"Yep, it's Sherlock," replied John.

"Sherlock Bloody Holmes, the high-functioning sociopath we all know and love...?" he said incredulously. 

John sighed, "The very same."

When Greg started gaping like a goldfish (yes I did just do that), John took the chance to deposit Sherlock on him.

"Anyway,gottacallMycoftsoyoutakecareofhimhavefunbye!" John gabbled in a rush, desperate to escape and find answers in the form of a call to Mycoft. He sped from the room like a greased weasel, his hand already fumbling in his jacket pocket for his mobile. 

"Well, um, okay," Greg stuttered. "Why the hell would I know how to deal with a child?!?" he muttered, staring incredulously at Sherlock.

At that moment the miniature detective raised his pudgy arms in a gesture to be picked up. Lestrade fumbled for a while before deciding there was nothing else he could do but carry the tiny genius. He lent down and scooped the toddler of the white laboratory tiles.

He toted him down several corridors and then through the doors outside to where the squad cars were parked and where Donavan was waiting.

"Who's this little cutie?" Sally cooed.


	3. Phoney Phone Calls and Sally Squees

Meanwhile...

John hurried out of the lab and into a separate room, his mobile in his hand. Sure, he felt bad leaving Greg with Sherlock buuuuut he really needed answers. Also, who knows what Sherlock would be like as a kid?

I mean, sure, he was the one who had been in the military, fought in Afghanistan and saved lives but Greg...had a wife. So there. That is why he should deal with him. Totally. 

He quickly typed in Mycroft's number and waited for a few seconds for it to pick up.

"Ummmm, hello Mycroft...it is about Sherlock," John started.

"What has the overgrown toddler done now?" Mycroft asked, sighing. 

"Well, the thing is... he isn't really overgrown any more, it is now ... just toddler," John finished nervously.

"You mean to say that my brother has regressed to the state of a toddler both mentally and physically?" inquired Mycroft. 

"Well,yes", John concluded lamely, " and I was just wondering if you could, by any chance, offer some help?"

"But of course, I will be there immediately, my brother needs me!" he said. Mycroft thought he said it gallantly, John thought it sounded a bit weird. 

"This is Sherlock." Greg stated, hoping bluntness was the best way to go.  
"This... is freak?" Donavan asked.

"Uh huh," Lestrade said.

"But, but he is soooooo cute!" she squealed.

At that moment Sherlock started whimpering in Greg's arms, his little face screwed up as he make pitiful noises.

"Awwww no, now you've upset him," Sally clucked, staring at the DI disapprovingly. 

“I...what...I didn’t know...”Greg said in a panicked manner. 

Donavan reached over and took the tiny child from his arms, cradling so he could look over her shoulder. She slowly made circle movements on his back, and whispered to him. He calmed down and snuggled up to the woman. Sally smirked at Greg over the toddler's shoulder.

"What? How did you do that?" Lestrade spluttered, looking at Donavan like she had just grown and extra arm.

"Tricks of the trade", she said, smiling mysteriously.


	4. Mycroft Comes To The Rescue and To the Mansion

Greg was still blinking and looking a little derpy when John strode out through the double doors at the entrance to the lab. 

"Okay," he said, addressing both Lestrade and Donovan," Mycroft said that he will be he shortly to help us deal with Sherlock."

With that he noticed that Donavan was holding the toddler, not Greg. Also, that Sherlock seemed not to mind and was currently sucking his pudgy little thumb.

Suddenly a massive throbbing sound made its way the the three and, looking up,they saw Mycroft. In a helicopter. With a mega-phone. With the headlamps on. In broad daylight.

"Donavan! Unhand my brother at once!” said Mycoft said, the mega-phone serving to make him even more intimidating.

Apparently, Sherlock did not like this display one little bit and he screwed up his tiny face and wailed. He fisted his chubby hands and placed them on his eyes, while hunching his teeny shoulders. All in all he looked very pitiful and John had to repress the conscious desire to make it all better for him.

Meanwhile Mycroft appeared to have ordered his pilot to land somewhere (God knows were) and was currently rushing towards them, umbrella at hand. 

he three exchanged glances at this strange behaviour (aka raving looney) and Sally handed over the toddler.

"Are you okay Sherlie? Are you alright my precious little pumpkin?", Mycroft said, jiggling the kid. 

"Yas Crofty!" said the tiny detective raising his chubby hands to wave them around. "I made a new fwend, his name is Don!"

"Okay Sherlock, we are going to my house now," said Mycroft, smiling at him. " And John, you are coming with me and telling me exactly what happened to him..."


	5. The Ride and Ahmahgard

As Mycroft strode towards the helicopter (wherever it was), John looked at the other two. Greg simply shrugged and looked at him while Sally made little shooing motions.

John sighed and ran after the overprotective maniac. They got to the helicopter, which was ebony and sleek, with blacked out windows. A man in a suit got out and opened the door, revealing a leather and mahogany interior. 

"Copter! Copter! Croftys gotta copter!"squealed Sherlock, who was still in Mycroft's arms. Mycroft smiled at his antics and stepped into the helicopter and gestured at him to follow. They got into it and sat down on the plush seats.

"So John, How exactly did this happen?" Mycroft asked staring at him like a mother hawk.

And so John began his story. So far. It wasn't much. At all.

When he was finished he looked at Mycroft, who was grappling with Sherlock, trying to strap him in. He finally gave up, sighed and looked at John.

"I worry about him. Constantly. When Sherlock was younger he was a very quiet child. This got him teased as he grew up and he became depressed and withdrawn. Now he seems so much happier. However, I will have to be very careful with him. As you can see, Sherlock is abnormally sweet as a child and there have been various cases where he was taken from us by "admirers". !"

"You mean Sherlock was kidnapped from you because he was cute?!?!?!" interrupted John, sounding incredulous.

"Well... yes. And his inquisitive nature does not help in the slightest; he tends to wander off." Mycroft ended.

By then the helicopter had begun to descend, and John looked out of the window. And stared. And stared. And stared some more. Mycroft's house was massive. It wasn't a house it was a mansion. And a bloody large one at that.


	6. Buckets of Bucks and How Did he Do..?

They landed on a helicopter pad on top of his house. It was made of a greyish stone with ornate Gothic details. The gardens were big and spacious, with a maze in the centre. And...unicorns. There were unicorns in the maze. Real life moving unicorns.

"Uh, Mycroft," John asked, "are those unicorns real?!???"

"Yes, John, they are. the government developed them and they needed somewhere to keep them so I volunteered. They make quite the ornament."

After this little exchange they went through the stairwell onto the top floor. Mycroft explained about the house. Apparently It had 3 floors, 137 rooms and a ball room. Git.

After thinking this he looked over at the two. Mycroft was holding Sherlock on his hip, his arms circled around him protectively. He smiled, but then realised that Mycroft had to look after Sherlock when he was younger. No wonder he was defensive of him.

They finally got to a door along one of the numerous corridors. The corridor itself was lavishly decorated; with a Persian looking rug running the entire length of the corridor. The décor looked expensive, with antique tables and lamps at every turn. There were paintings lining the halls, gilt framed masterpieces of hawk-eyed relatives and hook-nosed friends.

Mycroft stepped imperiously into the room and John followed. And gaped. And gasped. John seemed to be doing a lot of that. The entire room was like a Pirates of the Caribbean set. (John secretly binge watched such things). However it seemed to be safe-proofed for a child and had various protection measures in place. The bed itself was nestled on a replica of a galleon, right where the deck should be. Mycroft, noting John’s seemingly permanent state of utter bewilderment merely stated,

“He always loves Pirates and said he wanted to be one when he grew up.”

But...butbutbutbutbutbut...how did it get here so quickly? I only told you a few hours ago?” John asked.

“Well, when you called I spoke to Athena and she sorted it out. Quite remarkable that girl.”


	7. Fuzwuzwzuwuz and Pwite

At this moment Sherlock decided to wake up. His impossibly large eyes opened and he let out a mewling noise, as he fisted his hands and stretched. It was, in short, the cutest yawn either of them had ever seen. 

"Crofty?" asked Sherlock blearily, "Where are we?"

Mycroft bumped him up his hip and said, "We are at your home for the moment."

Sherlock took a moment to look around and then let out an adorable happy noise as he realized the room he was in.

"Croftcroftcroft let me down! I wanna look around!"

Mycroft let out a little smile; Sherlock hadn't called him Croft or Crofty since he was young, he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

John looked over at Mycroft; he seemed honestly happy at the change. John admitted that the titchy detective was a nice difference to the grumpy, snappish friend he was used to, but they needed to find a cure.

Sherlock came running back up to them with a huge smile on his face, a tricorn hat jammed onto his curls and swinging a disturbingly real looking sword. He giggled and swished his sword around a bit.

"Don! Don! Look! I am a piwate!" he said. Next he attempted to whack John, but as his head only reached Johns waist, it wasn't like he was mortally wounded. 

"Okay Sherlock", said Mycroft, "It is time for food now."

Sherlock ran from John to his elder brother, looking up at him.

"Myc, will I get pudding, pwease?"

"Maybe Sherlock, it depends on whether you eat your vegetables are not."

Sherlock pouted his full, Cupid’s bow lips and frowned.

“Croft, you smell funny!” he said and ran over to John, hiding behind him.


	8. Veggies of Doom, Cookies and Scientists

Mycroft sighed and looked at John with an exasperated look on his face. 

"When Sherlock was... at the age he is now, he decided that all people who were mean to him "smelled funny", instead of saying that he didn't like them."

John nodded to Mycroft; he turned to Sherlock, crouching down so that he was more to his limited height.

“Look Sherlock, if you don't eat your greens you will never grow big and strong like me!" John said.

Sherlock frowned again, but he nodded his consent and allowed himself to be led downstairs. They passed sculptures made of ice (how the hell were those still solid?!??!?), extensive chandeliers and various pieces of artwork which John was pretty sure should be in a museum. 

They finally reached what appeared to be the dining room. It was lined with oak panelling and had a long polished wooden table stretching down the middle. There were two chairs at one end and a high chair with them; there was also silver cutlery and napkins set out.

Mycroft led Sherlock down and then strapped him into it. Sherlock squirmed about a bit and looked pretty disgruntled about this turn of events. Mycroft gestured for John to take a seat then pressed a bell which didn’t appear to make a noise.

One of the wooden panels opened and a woman came out carrying three plates, two with roasts on them and one with scrambled eggs with ketchup and green beans. John tucked into his immediately and so did Mycroft, but Sherlock was pushing his around his plate, that adorable pout back on his face.

"Mycy, I don't wanna eat this. It looks yucky. Crofty, I want a cookie. Cookies are yummy." 

Mycroft sighed and looked at Sherlock, "Sherlock, if you eat half of your main course you can have pudding. Maybe."

Once they had all finished (or not in Sherlock’s case) their meals, Mycroft pinged the bell again and another lady came through the panel and took their plates away. Another one came through a second later, but this time she was carrying two porcelain plates with two pots of Crème Brûlée on them and one with a gooey chocolate-chip cookie which was the size of a roll of tape.

As soon as Sherlock set eyes on the cookie, he reached up and grabbed it from the lady and tried to fit as much of it into his mouth as he could. In short, he looked like a hamster that was stuffing its cheeks. A mental image of Sherlock as a hamster formed in his head. What has been seen cannot be unseen. But John had to get down to business with Mycroft.

“Look Mycroft”, he said, dropping his voice a little and leaning in, “I know you love Sherlock like this, but you really do have to start at least attempting to find a cure”.

Mycroft looked a little startled (probably not used to being ordered around that lazy wanker) and it seemed the thought genuinely hadn't occurred to him.

"I suppose I must. I will put my best scientists on it in the morning." 

Mycroft internally sighed. He loves his brother like this; young and innocent and his brother loves him back like this. He didn't want him to go back to the brother that didn't care; the brother who did drugs and knew the horror of the big bad world. But Mycroft would call his scientist in the morning. He just didn't say which morning...

 

Sherlock mumbled something about maybe always meaning no, but sullenly ate some of his food.


	9. OMGWHEREISHEHELPOHGODSOMONEBLOODYFINDHIM!!!

John frowned at little and then looked at Sherlock...he was gone.


	10. Dun Dun Duuuun and Jim Likes Cake

John scrambled out of his seat, wildly looking for the titchy detective.

"Mycroft! Mycroft, Sherlock is gone!"

Meanwhile... Sherlock didn't want to stay in this stupid high chair. It looked funny. Sherlock wanted to go and explore the big house and maybe go back to the room with all the piratey stuff in it. That room was cool.

But maybe he should find the kitchens instead; Sherlock had figured out that if you gave big people a certain look they give you whatever ever you want. And so his wiggled out of the silly seat, hung himself over the side of it and dropped down.

The big people didn't notice they were too busy talking about something. Probably wine, cheese and politics. Sherlock toddled of as fast as he could to look around. He might go to the maze as well.

Moriarty looked through his high tech, infrared, heat-sensing zoomable spy-googles. Or as he liked to call them : HTIHSZSG. He scanned the gardens of Mycoft's house confident that no one would see him. This was because of he was in this low-flying, ultra-stealth, camouflaged land submarine.

"Alright, he said, “soon we will be done scoping out his house and then we can go back to the base,".

He looked at his little minions running around doing his orders. One came up to him, wearing the customary black turtle neck, red corduroys and RAINBOW SCARF.

"Uh, sir, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but...well, the men are wondering why we are doing this." he murmured.

Jim looked at him,pulled himself up and said with up most dignity, "We are here to steal Mycroft's cake recipe."

**I'm sorry about the last one...I couldn't resist! ^-^ Bwee hee hee...**


	11. John is a Stress-Ball and Jim is a Creep

Jim sniggered at the awed look on his face as he realized the magnitude of the evil they were about to commit. He turned back to HTIHSZSG and peered through them. Suddenly, a little figure came into his line of sight. He zoomed in and gasped. Twas Sherlock.

Meanwhile...

Mycroft was hyperventilating. 

"Oh God John, poor Sherlock, what if someone kidnaps him gain of my poor defenceless brother..."

"Look Mycroft, we are in the middle of nowhere and you have the highest security in place. I’m sure Sherlock will be fine,” 

John patted the man on the back, although he was secretly very worried about the tiny toddler. He knew what Sherlock was like an adult and if he was like that as a child who knows what he could get up to.

"Mycoft do you have security cameras in place?" John asked.

"Whut? I mean-yes, of course I do." Mycroft relied, then it dawned on him that he could search for Sherlock.

"Then to the security room!"

A slow smirk spread across Moriarty's face as he realized that he could finally be rid of Sherlock. He grabbed an MBT Law out of his handbag and opened the door. He strode across the manicured lawn and hid behind a hedge that was shaped like a piece of cake. 

He twisted around and pointed it at the child. And stopped. And stared. And stared some more. A high-pitched noise started coming from him, gradually increasing in volume.

"YOU'RE SO CUUUUUUTEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he squealed rushing towards Sherlock. He dropped his MBT Law, picked him up a twirled him around. Sherlock giggled at this funny new man who gave him twirly rides. Sherlock knew he wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers, but that didn’t mean he couldn't touch them. And so, when he was let down, he gave the man’s leg a big hug.

Jim gasped at the overwhelming adorableness and squatted down to talk to him.

"Hello, my name is Jim, and I am a... friend of Mycoft's." Moriarty gave a genuine smile to Sherlock.

"Oh! That means I can talk to you." Sherlock gave a little smile, "I like you because you gave me a twirly ride. You smell nice."

"Why thank you Sherly! It's KNY Golden Delicious Million Dollar Fragrance! Now sweetie, do you want to come with me and go and blow some things up?" Jim said, a plan already forming in his head of how he was going to adopt him.


	12. Mycroft Thought It Couldn't Get Worse. And How Wrong He Was.

+Wibbely Wobbly Timey Wimey Skip+

They hurried through the hall, and in about ten minutes of twists and turns they came to a dark room filled with monitors, all with different pictures on. There was a swively chair in the middle and Mycroft sat down on it, whilst John stood behind.

Mycroft looked around, till he saw the screen showing the dining room, and rewinded it. He watched as his baby brother slipped out of his chair and ran into the garden.

He switched quickly to another screen, just in time to watch Moriarty sweep Sherlock into his...whatever that was. He gasped and reached out as his poor baby brother was taken into the depths of that machine.

Meanwhile...

Sherlock looked around and let out a cute little giggle.

"I like your space ship. It's really cool! Can I look around it?" Sherlock asked, eyes wide as saucers as he stared around at the flashing screen, lava lamps and...the crown jewels, discarded in the corner.

"Of course you can! And after this we can go to the Villains Pub! They have the biggest and gooeyist cookies in the world! " Moriarty replied as he internally smirked, Sherlock was already hooked. 

Jim lead Sherlock round his land-submarine, and his smile grew as the tiny child ran round excitedly. He had never had a good childhood and now he would give Sherlock the best he could get. He would teach him show to make plastic explosives, how to order people round and he would give him a tailor-fitted Westwood Suit. Yes. Sherlock would be the best child ever. 

"Sherlie!" Jim called out, having temporarily lost the detective whilst daydreaming. He went into the next room to see(much to his horror) that one of his stupid minions was playing with Shirlie. His Sherlie. He charged towards them with a battle cry that went along the lines of : 

ADFQWERZXCAAHHHHHHAGAGAGAGAGAGNUNUNUNPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAP! The man quickly placed a very startled Sherlock on the floor and ran away. Jim picked him up and gave him a once-over. He looked a little breathless and his eyes were the size of the moon, but he was okay.

"Aww Sherlie, did the silly man play with you?" Jim asked.

"Don't call me Shwerlie. Imma called Sherock, not shtupid Shwerlie," he replied, jutting out his bottom lip and frowning.

Jim nearly started hyperventilating at the utter adorableness of this particular display. This toddler was just too cute.


	13. Chapter 13

Omg the reclusive author posts!

 

 

 

No such luck.

 

Anywaaaay, before you sink into despair and MCR, I have good news! If you know about Wattpad then I can inform you that you will be able to continue reading this fic under the same title as before! Yaaaay!  
Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/26388336-a-study-in-miniature


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